


#lookslikesolotonight

by sweetiejelly



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-30
Updated: 2011-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 12:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetiejelly/pseuds/sweetiejelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over the phone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#lookslikesolotonight

**Author's Note:**

> Awesome title not mine but from a nonnie prompter at kurtblainesmut's [comment!fic thread](http://kurtblainesmut.livejournal.com/1603.html).

I miss you,” Blaine’s voice is low and so sincere that Kurt conjures up the warmth of his breath too, right in his ear.

“Hello to you too!” Kurt laughs, squirming a little as he uncrosses his legs on the bed. “I just got here, Blaine.”

“I know. I think I’m addicted to you,” Blaine breathes a little puppy dog-like into the phone. “I started driving your way after school and had to turn around. I just want to hug you and kiss you and run my hands all over your back.” He stops and Kurt could see him shaking his head at himself. “Sorry – I’m being selfish. How are-?”

He gets cut off as Kurt breathes back. “No, go back to what you want to do to me.”

Blaine laughs low into the phone before kissing it. Kurt half rolls his eyes even as he smiles fondly. His boyfriend is such a romantic dork. Then Blaine starts talking again. “I want to cup your face in my hands and lick over the shell of your ear. I know how sensitive you are there. And I want to tilt your head up and kiss you under your jaw where it slopes down to your neck. I want to suck small hickeys over your collarbones. I want to lick into your mouth and down over your nipples. God, I want to do everything to you, Kurt. Everything that makes you feel good.”

When Kurt doesn’t respond except in hitched breathing and breathy sighs, Blaine stops and asks, “Are you touching yourself?”

“What?” Kurt edges his hand away. “No, why-why would you say that?”

“I am,” Blaine’s voice drops lower, growls a little rougher. “God, Kurt, you drive me crazy even when you’re not here.”

“Oh no, you don’t,” Kurt switches the phone to his left hand and leans up a shoulder to cradle it. “You’re the one who just put the _image_ into my head.” He shifts as he works down the zipper of his pants. “Tell me more.”

“Was that a zipper I just heard? God, Kurt.” Blaine sounds wrecked already as he whines into the phone. “I’m just palming myself now, slowly, through my boxer. Thinking about you, of course, and how amazing you are, how simultaneous soft and strong you are, what your hand might feel like on me. What are you doing?”

“The same,” Kurt breathes as he grips himself not through anything though, because he went commando today. (How else was he supposed to wear these tight pants?) “Only skin on skin and thinking about you, what your hand might feel like, calloused from playing your guitar and oh –” He breaks off. It’s too much with Blaine on the other side of the phone, which feels like right against the side of his face, panting and moaning low as his hands make these obscene rustling sounds, obviously tugging off his boxers and sliding up his cock in fast strokes now. “ _Shit_ , Blaine. You’re killing me here.”

“Wouldn’t want to do that,” Blaine pants in rhythm. “You have to sing tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Kurt pulls up roughly, twisting his wrist to catch all the friction he can. “Yeah, plus you can’t kiss me again.”

“And there’s that.” Blaine breathes-laughs and chokes off on a moan. “I can just see you, flushed gorgeous and so hot – did I tell you you’re hot? You’re ridiculous with your hips and your eyes and your hair and everything. You’re arching up, desperate against your palm and you’re watching it disappear and reappear in your grip like a magic trick. You’re smearing pre-come wet over the head and using it to slide – _god_ -”

“Blaine,” Kurt ruts desperately against his hand. “God, _Blaine._ ”

“I love the way you say my name, _Kurt_.”

“Now you’re just not playing fair – “

“Kurt,” Blaine says it again, all tease and heat and Kurt wants to smack him or maybe smack into him. With his lips. Or his dick. Both sound pretty good.

“Oh, oh,” Kurt chokes out as he comes, messy over his hand and a little over his thighs. (He made sure to aim away from his tailored shirt.) “Blaine?”

But Blaine’s gone, just the snaps of his hips and the slides of his hands, the rough gravel of his voice drifting over the phone. It sounds absolutely wonderful. Kurt’s almost sorry he waited this long to be away from Blaine.

“Your voice,” Blaine finally says. “You’re going to kill me when we do this in person.”

And Kurt blushes deep red. In person. With Blaine. Doing this. His brain goes a little soft. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I guess we’re just both going to die. Happily.”

Blaine laughs. “I really do miss you. Good luck tomorrow, Kurt.” He presses a kiss to the phone.

Kurt can’t help smiling or placing a peck on his phone. It feels nothing like Blaine but he smiles anyway when he hears the answering smooch. “I miss you too. I wish you were here.”


End file.
